


Assassin's Creed One-Shots.

by LucDeep



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, Henvie, Icantwritesmut, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jacobisanarse, Past Child Abuse, Stupidity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-14 23:03:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8032453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucDeep/pseuds/LucDeep
Summary: A collection of one-shots coming from my schools Creative Writing prompts and other places.NOTE: IF ANY OF YOU SEE THESE STORIES ON ANY OTHER FANFICTION SITE, PLEASE REPORT IT TO ME! THESE STORIES WILL BE POSTED NO WHERE OTHER THAN AO3!





	1. Evie's Evening Erotica

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arvalee Knight (AvaWhiteRaven)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaWhiteRaven/gifts).



It was a stormy evening in London. Not really different from any other evening there, but this one was special. 

Evie had somehow stumbled into an adult book store, where her curiosity got the best of her. She checked out a novel and decided to read its contents. 

She was shocked at what she had found.

"My god, it's pure smut! There's no story to this! It's simply two blokes buggering each other."

Evie rolled her eyes and set the book back on its shelf. 

"I bet I could do much better."

And that's exactly what she did. 

"I could write about myself, and Mr. Green. It'd be very erotic, and actually have a nice plot. Yes. How hard could that be?"

She smirked to herself. She could write a steamy story about her and the one she fancies. Then she could store it under her pillow for those nights when sleep just wouldn't come.

When Evie got back to the train she went straight to her desk. She pulled out a pen and some paper and began brain storming. 

~~~~~~~A few hours later~~~~~

"This is impossible! How does Charles do it?! Nothing is coming to mind!"

Evie threw her pen onto the desk and pushed back in the chair. 

"I guess I could always come back and fill in the rest of the story..."

She scrapped the plot for now, and went straight to the sexy scenes, which she spoke while she wrote. 

She grabbed her pen again and began furiously writing. The metal of the pen scratching as she did so. 

"And then Evelyn grabbed Henry's fully erect cock, and swirled her tongue around the tip."

"He moaned in ecstasy. His fingers delved into her hair, grabbing tight. He needed her mouth fully on him."

"She pumped him, once, twice, before taking him in as far as she possibly could. His tip just barley nudged the back of her throat."

"Don't stop"

"Evelyn smirked up at him."

"Who said I was going to?"

"She placed him back into her mouth, but not before her tongue swept across his tip to collect the few beads of pre cum there."

"I'd very much like to fuck you."

"She released him with a 'pop'."

"Then let's not keep you waiting."

"Evelyn lifted her skirt up, and slowly sank down onto his shaft. She moaned as he breached her-"

She was interrupted by a slam to the door. 

"EVIE?! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

She looked back over her shoulder at the intruder. Evie covered her writing with her arms to protect his eyes from seeing her paper. 

"Jacob! get out! Can't you see I'm busy here?!"

"You're reading smut. And being quite loud about it. You're too young to be even reading this stuff, let alone writing it!"

Evie gasped. 

"Wha-I am older than you! I am well of the age to do whatever I please. Even if it is a bit dirty..."

Jacob's surprise turned into a coy smirk.

"What would Henry say if he found out what you were doing back here...?"

Evie stared wide eyed at him.

"Jacob. Don't. You. Dare."

"Oh I dare, dear sister. I'm sure good ol' Greeny would be delighted to see what you've written!" 

"Can't I have anything to myself?! Is nothing sacred to you?"

"Very few things are. Now, let's not keep the critics waiting!"

Jacob ran towards Evie and snatched the papers out from under her. He bolted through the train to where Henry was.

Evie was hot on his trail.

"Jacob! Give them back! I swear, I'll have you butchered for this!"

The younger Frye was giggling to himself. He gave no thought to the consequences of his actions. 

"Oh Greeny!"

Jacob found Henry lounging on one of the trains many couches. 

"I have some documents for you to look over!"

Before Jacob could pass Henry the papers, Evie came in screaming and tackled him to the ground. 

Jacob let out a strangled gasp and shoved the writings in Henry's face.

Evie straddled her brothers waist. Her hands gripped Jacob's throat, squeezing tight, whilst she slammed his head against the floor. 

Henry disregarded the two fighting, and instead focused his attention on the papers in his hands. 

"This actually isn't half bad. Who wrote it?"

The twins stopped and looked up at Henry, shock upon both their faces. 

Evie stood up and dusted herself off.

"I-I have no idea. But once I find out, I'll be sure to relay the message."

"Thank you. See if you can't get them to write more..."

And with that, Henry left to another section of the train.

Evie stood in shock of what just happened. 

Jacob stood up and rested his back against the wall, a smirk plastered on his face. 

"Who knew? Greeny is a kinky bastard after -Oof!"

His comment was cut short by an elbow to the chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Those rogue papers you see fluttering about on the streets in Syndicate aren't really just any ordinary papers. They're pages from Evie's dirty fiction. ;)


	2. When Dessert Attacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We all know that Jacob is terrible at baking/cooking. The younger Frye tries to recreate a famous local dessert, but ends up Frankensteining it.  
> NOTE: IF ANY OF YOU SEE THESE STORIES ON ANY OTHER FANFICTION SITE, PLEASE REPORT IT TO ME! THESE STORIES WILL BE POSTED NO WHERE OTHER THAN AO3!

Smoke filled the train.

 

Evie was coming back from a long mission, only to be greeted by thick, black, smoke.

 

Coughing, she made her way into the kitchen.

 

“Smells like Jacobs cooking.”

 

Inside, she saw a mitten clad Jacob who was retrieving a tin from the oven.

 

Once he noticed her presence he smirked up at her.

 

“Ah, you are right on time Dear Sister.”

 

“On time for what?”

 

“Well I just made us a delicious treat. The locals call it ‘Monkey Bread’.”

 

Evie leaned over to get a good look at the failed dessert.

 

“Doesn’t look like any ‘bread’ I’ve seen. It’d be more recognizable if it weren’t bloody burnt.”

 

Jacob rolled his eyes.

 

“It’s not burnt. It’s golden brown.”

 

“Ah, yes. Golden brown, my mistake. I suppose the smoke was coming from the train then?”

 

“The attitude is unnecessary Evie. Would you like a piece?”

 

Evie turned up her nose in disgust.

 

“I’d rather lick the streets of Crawley than eat that.”

 

“Fine, more for me!”

 

Jacob went in to pull off a piece, but the dessert mysteriously came to life and attacked his face. 

 

“AH! EVIE, GET IT OFF ME!”

 

Evie sprang into action and grabbed the nearest item to her, which was a frying pan, and blindly swung.

 

However, she completely missed and hit Jacob’s head instead.

 

“OW! EVIE!”

 

“Sorry! Sorry! Let me try again!”

 

She took up a stance and held the pan over her head, ready to swing again.

 

“NO, EVIE DON’T!”

 

She kissed her teeth in annoyance.

 

“Then what do you want me to do?”

 

“I DON’T KNOW! BUT DO SOMETHING!”

 

She dropped the pan and loaded her gauntlet with a tranquilizer dart.

 

“Alright, hold steady. I’m going to try something!”

 

She lined up the shot, and fired. It missed.

 

Jacob was running into everything. He was knocking over silverware and dishes, getting more panicked by the second. While trying to remove the bread, he tripped over a wooden box and fell back against the flaming stove. His very expensive coat was now on fire.

 

“Jacob! You’re on fire!”

 

“Now’s really not the time for compliments!”

 

“No, Jacob, you’re literally on fire!”

 

Jacob finally realized what his sister meant when he felt the heat creep up his leg.

 

The twins now had to put out a fire and get rid of a bread monster.

 

“Hey, Frye! I got those files you wanted on-“

 

Henry came into the kitchen, and upon seeing what was going on right in front of him, decided to leave.

 

“I-I’ll just come back later.”

 

Evie loaded up her gauntlet again and fired.

 

She missed again, and the dart lodged its self straight into Jacob’s neck.

 

“Nice shot.”

 

Were Jacob’s last words before he passed out.

 

With Jacob unconscious, the bead began gnawing at his hair, while banging its tiny fists on his head.

 

Evie blew a strand of hair that had slipped from her bun out of her face.

 

“Seems you’re making an unscheduled stop!”

 

She stood back a good distance, ran up, and kicked the loaf off of her brother. It flew off and out the window, where it landed in the Thames and disintegrated.

 

With that mess over, Evie stomped out the flames on Jacob’s coat and knelt next to him, waiting for him to come to.

 

He slowly opened his eyes and looked up at his sister.

 

“Is it gone?”

 

“Yes Jacob, the big bad bread is toast.”

 

When all was normal again, Evie made Jacob swear that he’d stay out of the kitchen for as long as they owned the train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little did Jacob know that Evie and Henry would continue to make bread puns for years to come.


	3. Here Comes The Ripper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're one of The Ripper's targets.  
> NOTE: IF ANY OF YOU SEE THESE STORIES ON ANY OTHER FANFICTION SITE, PLEASE REPORT IT TO ME! THESE STORIES WILL BE POSTED NO WHERE OTHER THAN AO3!

You bid the Madam of the local brothel goodnight. It was your job to warn the houses that did not have access to the weekly paper, about the new found killer. You made all the workers swear that they wouldn't walk the streets at night. Or, at least not without an escort and a sharp blade. Very few women took the warning seriously. You begged the local police station to make night walking illegal, until the murderer was caught. Hopefully, if a fine was put up for anyone found out past a certain hour, there'd be a lower chance of death. The police looked into your suggestion, but had not gotten back to you on whether or not they'd enforce the law. 

You were heading home. It was a late hour, perhaps eleven or twelve. You normally stuck to open spaces, ones in which were mildly populated. Should anything happen, you could call out and immediately get assistance. However, you came to a fork in the road. Your path was split. You could either go down a long, winding alley, or take a short cut through a more run down part of town. You ultimately chose the former. You'd rather be home sooner, but you had previously been mugged. So, the dark and empty alley way seemed like the best bet. 

You slowly made your way down the path. You focused on the road ahead of you, not worrying about the eery sounds in the distance. You tried to keep your heart rate steady, as you didn't want to pass out. But each additional sound that you picked up, added to your nervousness. It was as if all your senses had heightened. You became uneasy. You clutched your dress in an iron tight grip, lifting it, and began to pick up the pace. Your steps almost faltered when you heard the sound of a blade being dragged across the brick wall behind you. Your ears perked up like a dog's. It was at this moment that fight-or-flight kicked in. You knew your knuckles were already turning white at the harsh grip you had on the cloth. With the horrid sound getting closer, you bolted into a sprint. The blade was picked up and footsteps could be heard quickly coming after you. Who ever it was behind you, had no intention of stopping. Your breathing was labored. The cold air stung your throat as you gulped down several breaths. You got ready to scream, but a hand found its way over your mouth, stopping any 'would be' attempts at crying for help. A warm body then collided with yours, and knocked you off your feet. With a body on top of yours, you desperately clawed at the street below, trying to pull yourself out from underneath your attacker. Pain exploded from your right index finger as your nail split in two. 

Your assailant turned you onto your back with a grunt. You could just make out the mans appearance in the dim lighting. He was wearing what looked to be a cotton bag over his head, with two shallow slits at the top for his eyes. Ontop of that, he was wearing a top hat. 

You increased your struggle, but the man simply held tight. He sat on top of you, pinning your body to the ground with his weight. He leaned down and chuckled in your ear. 

"It's always the ones who care the most that are the first to fall."

He tilted his head to the side. 

"With you alive, The Ripper gets no fresh meat. They're too afraid to come out at night now, and it's all because of you."

The man then paused.

"Tell me, are you afraid?"

You don't respond. Your brain can't process what's happening, it's all a blur. But you somehow find yourself shaking your head. 

He laughed once more. 

"You lie. I can see the terror in your eyes."

The man grabbed his blade, and held it over his head. He then uttered the words you hoped he'd never say. 

"I can't let you live..."


	4. Nowhere to Hyde

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Jacob leaves you for a business meeting, you come face to face with Jack The Ripper.  
> NOTE: IF ANY OF YOU SEE THESE STORIES ON ANY OTHER FANFICTION SITE, PLEASE REPORT IT TO ME! THESE STORIES WILL BE POSTED NO WHERE OTHER THAN AO3!  
>  
> 
> NOTE: Character Lindy Jones belongs to Oreana Galena.

Whitechapel, 1888

 

Your favorite client, Jacob Frye, was sitting at the edge of your bed alongside you, a hand atop your thigh. 

You two sat in silence, just enjoying each other's company. Jacob signaled it was time for him to go with a pat of your leg. 

"Well, love, it's time for us to part ways."

"Must you go? I get so lonely when you're gone. I've literally no one else to talk to at the brothel. Ever since Lizzie-"

Jacob stopped you from having to explain your friend's passing by pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. 

"I know, dove, I know. But I must go. With my sister gone in India, and the Rooks taken over by Jack, Whitechaple isn't as safe as it once was."

Noticing your glum expression, Jacob took you into his arms and held you to his chest. 

"How did a bloke like me get a girl like you?"

He muttered into your hair as he peppered kisses to your head. 

You rested your hand atop his clothed chest, smiling as you felt his heart beat. 

"Well, you're not the typical client. You have respect for women like me, you're not a brute and you're quite the charmer."

"You forgot the roguishly handsome bit, love." 

You looked up, took his face in your hands and gazed into his eyes. 

"And you're absolutely ravishing, darling." 

A smirk pulled at the corners of Jacob's lips. 

"Much better."

With a hand at the back of your head, Jacob pulled you in for one last lingering kiss, before standing up and straightening his clothes. 

You helped by picking up his discarded ascot and tying it back around his neck. 

"Thank you, love. Oh! Before I forget-"

Jacob dug into his purse and dropped a fistful of pounds into your hands. 

You looked down at the pile of coins. 

"Jacob, this is twice the amount you owe me."

He shrugged as he tucked his shirt into his pants. 

"I know. But I'll be gone for a few days. That should last you till I get back. Maybe even longer."

He sent a warm smile your way, and you couldn't help but return it. 

"Now, you are to be a good girl while I'm gone. And don't you dare try to misbehave. If I find out you did something naughty, you'll be punished."

"Yes, sir."

Jacob then leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

"Goodnight, (Y/n)."

"Goodnight."

With your goodbyes exchanged, You two parted ways. 

Jacob Frye was a kind and gentle man. He was in fact, the love of your life. He was unlike the rest of your clientele. He cared for you, and treated you with respect; never once belittling you for your chosen profession. The man treated you like a queen. He’d go out of his way just to make you smile. Even going so far as to buy you your own home. This residence assured that the two of you could meet and enjoy yourselves in the privacy you so desired. It was nice having a bit of alone time with the man you loved. But, after every meet with Jacob, you were forced to return to the brothel to ensure no suspicions were aroused. You both knew that if the Madam were to see you two together so often as you were, she’d surely raise the asking price for your services.

You loathed the walk back at night. It was unnerving. Even more so now that The Ripper was about.

Worried for your safety, Jacob bought you a stiletto which hides under your skirt. Should anyone approach you demanding your services, you could easily defend yourself.

The walk back never took very long. It was only about ten minutes, give or take. It was the fact that you had to do it at night and alone which was worrying.

The Autumn breeze was unsettling, as it made the hairs on your neck stand on end. 

Just as you was minding your own business, that’s when you heard it…

Footsteps behind you...

Gathering up your skirts in your hands, you picked up the pace.

As you did so, the light clacking of shoes on brick became faster.

You stopped a moment once you remembered your dagger. Reaching under and gripping the handle, you spun on your heel.

Your stalker had gotten so close during your time standing still, that you were able to see his eyes gleaming out from under his top hat.

Putting up a hand to distance yourself from him, you addressed the shadowy figure.

“Excuse me, sir. Can I help you?”

The man took his sweet time answering.

“I require your services.”

“I’m afraid I just got off duty, sir. G’nite.”

You turned to walk away, but were caught by the arm and spun back around.

You gave the stranger a look, one which clearly expressed your thinning patience.

“Sir-“

“You don’t understand. I have coin, you see.”

With his free hand, the man brought a hefty pouch into view.

“How much?”

“What should be enough to hire a woman of your stature for the night.”

Flickering in your mind were the articles on the lose killer, and what he did to women like you. 

“Not enough.”

You ripped your arm from his grasp and lifted your skirts once more, simultaneously grabbing your hidden knife.

You hardly had the chance to move as you were thrown against the brick wall. As your back connected with the stone, you were knocked of breath.

Just as the man came forward, you pulled your knife from its belt and swiped at your attacker.

He let out a hiss as the blade connected with his cheek. He lifted his hand to touch his face, and came away with blood. There wasn’t much of the crimson liquid, only a few drops beaded down, staining his collar.

"You'll regret that, whore."

You should have ran. Your mind was screaming at you to move, yell, slice his hands off. Anything but stand there. But you couldn’t move. Your legs were frozen stiff. You could do nothing but watch as he growled and shot you daggers with his eyes.

You cowered as he came at you. You had nothing to protect yourself with, as he knocked the knife from your hand.

Grabbing hold of your shoulders, he pressed you into the wall. You could feel the rough surface dig into your dress.

“You stupid bloody harlot!”

Without warning, he struck you hard across the face. The force of the blow made your ears ring and your vision blur. Tears began to stream down your cheeks. 

He chuckled darkly at how pathetic you looked. The shadowy figure then slowly reached into his coat and pulled out a large kitchen knife. Holding the blade to your face, he ran it gently across your skin. 

It then donned on you.

You let out a shaky breath as you spoke.

“It’s you…it is…IT IS!”

The man moved his hand from your shoulder to around your throat.

Your breathing became erratic as you gasped for air. Your hands came up to his, trying to pry them off.

He laughed once more and brought his face closer to yours.

“You catch on so quickly. Tell me, who am I?”

“You're The Ripper. Y-you murdered those women. Gutted them like fish and left them on the streets for others to see! You're a monster!" 

“Well done…You know I’m out here, yet you walk.”

“It’s not as if I have a choice! I have to work!”

“Prostitutes are to stay in the brothel. Yet here you are, walking back to the brothel...Why is that?”

“I was visiting a friend.”

“Girls like you don’t have friends. Where were you?!”

Jack demanded by slamming you back against the wall.

You opened your mouth to answer, only to realize that you didn’t have one.

“Wait, I know. You’ve formed a sorry excuse of a relationship with one of your clients. That’s where you’re coming from. His house.”

You closed your mouth and stared down at your feet.

“How pathetic. He doesn’t love you. He’s using you. You are no more than an object. You are a worthless whore that men purchase to fill with their seed. Women like you are a dime a dozen. You aren’t special. In fact, if you were found dead on the street tonight, the constable who came across your corpse would as like sell it cheap as blow his whistle. Find yourself on a gurney being cut into bits, a penny a pound.”

Rage boiled inside you.

“How dare you?! I am a human being! I will not be treated like this! You don’t know Jacob! He loves me!”

You renewed your struggle in his grip.

“Jacob? As in, Jacob Frye? Leader of the Rooks? Why do you think he leaves you so often? Jacob hasn’t ran that gang in years! Whenever that miserable man leaves you to attend to some ‘gang business’, he’s really going home to spend time with his wife.”

Impossible. Jacob had never spoke of a wife.

“Jacob only has eyes for me!”

"Lindy Jones is her name. He just uses you as an outlet whenever  
she's away on her travels. You mean nothing to him. Hell, he's even had a kid with her. Name's Emmett Frye."

“You lie!”

“Do I?! Why don’t you go home to him and see for yourself.”

You didn’t want to believe it, but it did explain why Jacob would be gone so often and for such long periods of time.

“Or, perhaps I could leave your mangled corpse on his doorstep as a gift…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: the following was not written by me, but quoted from the script of the 2008 play 'Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde' by Jeffrey Hatcher. 
> 
> "If you were found dead on the street tonight, the constable who came across your corpse would as like sell it cheap as blow his whistle. Find yourself on a gurney being cut into bits, a penny a pound."
> 
> I totally forgot to give credit for this bit, as I had rushed typing up this story. I'm upset with myself for taking so long to realize that I hadn't given proper credit. This isn't something I normally forget to do, as I'm very conscious about crediting the right people. I apologize for not editing this sooner.


	5. Healing The Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !!TRIGGER WARNING!! THE FOLLOWING CONTAINS MENTIONS OF PAST ABUSE AND SUICIDE!
> 
>  
> 
> After your sister commits suicide, Jacob comes along to comfort you in your time of need.

Your brows were knitted together, as your eyes bored holes into the blanket you were holding onto. You hadn’t spoken all day. 

Something was wrong.

Bouncing off the door frame he was previously leaning on, Jacob approached you, and took a seat next to you on the bed.

You didn’t acknowledge his presence, even as you bounced slightly upon him sitting down. You were lost in your own mind. Your thoughts kept you company. 

Jacob placed a comforting hand on your back.

“Love? Are you well? You haven’t left the train in days.”

You didn’t respond. You looked as if you had something to say, but couldn’t muster the courage to speak.

The Rook tilted his head, trying to see your eyes under the mop of hair that framed your face.

“You do know you can talk to me, right? You can tell me anything. Doesn’t matter what it is.”

You finally picked your head up and looked at him.

Your once bright eyes had turned cloudy. And tears were threatening to spill over.

Becoming more concerned, Jacob scooted in closer to you. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you to him.

“You are not alright. Please, tell me. What is going on? Did someone hurt you?”

Your lips began to tremble, and the tears you tried so hard to keep inside, were now rolling down your cheeks.

“It’s Lydia. She’s killed herself.”

All resolve was lost, as you brought your hand to your mouth to stifle your cries of agony. 

Your sister? Dead? Jacob couldn’t believe his ears.

The Brit held you taught to his chest. His fingers curled in your hair, gently easing your face into his shoulder. 

The thought of never seeing your sister again, made his eyes water. She was such a down to Earth girl. Suicide would have been the last thing he’d think she’d do.

Gently rocking back and forth, Jacob tried to soothe your quaking form. 

Blinking the tears away, Jacob regained his composure.

After several minutes, you were able to pull away from his chest, tear free and red eyed.

“How-how did this happen? How did you find out?”

“I was going to join Mr. Green for target practice on Saturday. I went to get my revolver, and it wasn’t in the spot where I usually keep it. I was going to ask Lydia if she had seen it. Then, I heard it go off upstairs. I ran to her room and saw her on the floor-“

It was all becoming clear.

“She shot herself.”

You let out a whimper, and nodded.

“God, love. I don’t know what to say.”

“She didn’t even say goodbye. She was here one day, then gone the next. How could this have happened? She seemed so happy whenever we were together. I had no idea she was depressed. Not until now. Not until it was too late. I just can’t believe she’s gone.”

“It’s so sudden. I-I’m sorry you had to see her like that.”

You choked back a sob.

“Half her skull was missing. Had she not been wearing her uniform, I wouldn’t have recognized her. The blood was…there was so much of it. On the floor, the walls, her bed sheets. Women came by and cleaned up the room. Didn’t matter how hard they scrubbed, the blood just wouldn’t come out of the carpet.”

“I can’t imagine how you must feel. As Assassins, we deal with death every day. But suicide is different. Especially if it’s your family.”

“Why did she leave me? I knew she was going to die someday. But not like this. Not by taking her own life.”

“Do you have any idea as to why she’d do such a thing?”

You knew. You just didn’t want to answer.

“You know…don’t you?”

You looked down at your blanket once more, picking at the stitching.

“Why did she do it?”

Jacob pressed.

“It could be the abuse. She just couldn’t take it anymore.”

You responded meagerly.

“Abuse? Who abused her?! Tell me!”

“Us! He abused us…we were both abused.”

“Who is he, love?”

Jacob encouraged you, gently rubbing your upper arm.

“Our father. He abused alcohol just as much as he abused us. He’d come home tossed and yell at us. We’d have to stay home from school sometimes because he’d leave bruises on exposed parts of our flesh.”

Jacob was shocked. He never knew you two were abused as children. And it enraged him.

“What a right bastard. I’d bash his bloody brains in if I could. No man should ever lay a hand on a child.”

You shivered as the memories came flooding back. Instinctively, you traced the areas he’d hit you most often.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“No one knew. We swore never to tell anyone. We knew that if we did, we’d only get in trouble. We were stuck between a rock and a hard place. We didn’t want to end up in a foster home. Or worse yet, the streets. While I was able to put my past behind me, I guess Lydia couldn’t. Being the oldest, she always stood up for me, and took my punishments so that I wouldn’t have to. She’d stay at home while I attended school. She gave up her life so that I could live mine. She was everything I could have asked for in a sister.”

“Her bravery is commendable. What I wouldn’t give to be as strong as her.”

“Had I only known she was hurting. I could have saved her. I could have saved her like she saved me.”

“You didn’t know.”

“But I should have known! She’s my sister! I should have known she wasn’t ok! I should have-“

Jacob growled and took you by the arms, gently shaking you.

“Do NOT blame yourself for this! It is NOT your fault! You didn’t choose this life. You didn’t choose to be abused.”

His words silenced you for a moment.

“I don’t know how I'll continue living life without her. We were so close. All we had was each other. I feel like I don’t even know myself anymore. I feel as if I’ve lost all purpose.”

Jacob almost lost it when he realized you were considering following in your sister’s footsteps.

“No. No! Don’t think like that! I’d be bloody lost without you. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to join her. Not just yet. There’s still plenty more for you to do down here. You’ll see her again when the time comes. But for now, try and focus on the present. Alright? You’re not alone in your suffering. I’m upset to see her go, too. And I’ve no doubt Evie will be as well, once she gets wind of this. You have to understand, love, that whenever you lose someone, you’ll never be the only one affected. Many will share your grief. You must be strong. Strong like she was. You’ve been given a gift. Don’t let it go to waste.”

Besides your sister, you had never met someone who cared so much for you. It tugged at your heart, and made you reconsider ending your life.

“If you want, we can visit the nearest foster home and donate a few thousand pounds. We’ll be taking a load off my safe, and improving the lives of some urchins. What do you say?”

For the first time in days, you smiled.

Seeing you smile caused Jacob to don a smirk of his own.

“There she is. There’s that gorgeous girl I know.”

Shaking your head at his cheesy flattery, you answered his previous question.

“I’d love that, Jacob.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been in 'one of those moods' lately. Depression sucks. I've been suicidal in the past. Depression clouds our judgment, and makes us think horrible things. Horrible things that aren't true. You're never alone in your suffering. People have been abused, sexually assaulted, traumatized, and so on. Reach out to those who are experiencing the same things as you. Make a connection. At least that way, you'll know for sure that you aren't alone. 
> 
> National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
> 
> 1-800-273-8255
> 
> If you are going through something similar, or just want to talk, then feel free to shoot me an email. smithsofia951@gmail.com  
>  
> 
> I'm currently accepting requests for G-M Jacob x Reader one shots.


	6. Torn By The Ripper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tired of Jack's reign of terror, you and Jacob decide to take him down once and for all.

“Blast!”

You jumped in your seat when Jacob slammed his fist into the wall. 

“Jesus, Jacob! Give me a heart attack, why don’t you?”

You held your hand to your chest, hoping to calm your rapid heartbeat.

“Sorry. I couldn’t help it. Another body was found in Whitechapel.”

Closing your book, you set it down on the chair where you previously sat.

“Oh, no…W-who was it?”

“Catherine.”

“She’s the second one this night! When will this madness end?!”

“We know what we need to do. I just can’t bring myself to hurt little Jack.”

You walked up to Jacob, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“But he’s not little anymore, Jacob. He’s a cold-blooded killer who slaughters defenseless women for sport.”

You could sense the rage boiling inside him.

“You think I don’t know that?!”

His voice resounded throughout the building.

“Sorry.”

“It’s time we put a stop to this. We can’t have a repeat of tonight.”

“How do you suppose we go about it?”

You ran a hand through your hair.

“Well, we know his preferred target. I could-“

“No. I know what you’re going to say, and the answer is no.”

“Jacob, how else are we to attract his attention?”

“I will not let you, my last faithful Rook, be used as bait for a psychopathic killer.”

“Fine. Then you come up with a better idea!”

Jacob stood in silence for a moment.

“Exactly. You can’t. We don’t have time to waste arguing. Each day someone else falls victim to his blade. How many more are we going to let die before we come up with a solution?”

“I am not going to help you get yourself killed!”

“Then I’ll do it myself!”

In a panic, Jacob grabbed you by your arms.

“I can’t let you do this. I won’t let him take you away from me.”

“Then help me! We are stronger together. Evie would have done the same, to protect the whole of London.”

You begged with pleading eyes.

Jacob finally gave in with a sigh.

“Alright. But, I’ll be watching from a distance. If something goes wrong, I’m calling it off, and you are to get the hell out of there. Do you understand?”

You nodded. 

“Yes.”

Jacob then removed his hands from you.

“Good. Now, if we are to convince the world you’re a harlot, then you’ll have to dress the part.”

“I realize that. But where are we to get a whore’s dress?”

Jacob rubbed his chin in thought, then came to a brilliant idea.

“Follow me.”

He declared, as he dragged you along by your arm.

You decided to keep quiet and let your boss guide you to wherever he was taking you.

The destination wasn’t too far away. In fact, it was a local brothel, which was right down the street.

Along the way, Jacob explained to you that this certain whore house was owned by the Assassins. 

Walking up to the entrance, not caring to be discreet, Jacob pounded on the red wooden door.

A petite young woman answered, and immediately began sizing you up.

“Looking for a room for the night, sir?”

Taken aback, you ripped your arm out of Jacob’s grip.

“I am not a harlot!”

The ruckus you created caused an elderly woman to shoo the prostitute away.

“Go, Madeline. There’s a client waiting for you.”

Taking the young woman’s place, the elder lady greeted you two.

“You’ll have to forgive her, Sir Frye. She has yet to know you.”

Fully opening the door, the old woman allowed you two to step inside.

“Please, come in. It’s awfully cold out there tonight. Wouldn’t want you watching anything.”

After shutting the door, the lady turned to you.

“Up the stairs.”

She pointed with her bony finger.

You both made your way upstairs as the woman requested. Jacob then showed you inside a sitting room. The Madam followed.

“Please sit.”

You did as asked.

“So, what can I help you two with?”

“We are going after the Ripper. (Y/n), here, is going to attract him by dressing as a whore. But for that, we need an actual dress. Do you suppose we could-?”

The Madam cut Jacob off.

“Say no more. Nelly! Elizabeth!”

In then came two beautiful women.

“You called?”

“Girls, this is Sir Jacob Frye. He and his accomplice are going after Jack. They need help to make- I’m sorry, I never got your name, dear.”

The old woman turned to look at you.

“(Y/n).”

“Right. To make (Y/n) look as if she were one of you. Think you can handle that?”

Elizabeth nodded. 

“Of course.”

“Wonderful! Then I shall leave you to it.”

The woman then got up with a wobble, and exited the room.

“So, what’s going to happen to me?”  
You asked.

“We’re going to do your hair and makeup. Then get you into a dress.”

“Delightful.”

You spoke with fake enthusiasm.

“That means you’ll have to leave, Sir Frye.”

Instead of leaving, Jacob, however, got comfortable in his chair.

“I thought I’d stay for the show.”

He replied smugly, shooting a wink your way.

“Sorry, sir. But, you cannot be present for this.”

“I promise I’ll be a good little lad.”

You then marched up to Jacob and grabbed him by his ear. 

“What are you- ow, ow, OW!”

“I bet Evie misses this bit.”

With him near the door, you kicked him out with your foot.

The whole process took about an hour. With rouge on your lips, and your hair in a high bun, it was time to get dressed.

Forced to wear a corset, you were pushed and pulled into the whale bone accessory.

“Alright, you’re done. What do you think?”

“I don’t think I can think. My brain is being deprived of oxygen.”

Elizabeth held up a hand mirror for you to check yourself out in. 

“I look and feel like a sausage.”

“You look incredible. You’ll get used to it after a while.”

Nelly commented.

“The not breathing part?”

She nodded.

You stood with your hand on your stomach.

“What if I need to run? I’ll pass out before I can reach safety.”

“Then be smart. Act cautiously, and you should be fine.”

Placing her hand on your shoulder, she smiled gently.

“But this is the Ripper we’re talking about! He isn’t the typical client. Do I at least have a means in which to protect myself?”

Elizabeth hummed in thought.

“Your corset it too tight to hide any weapons. However, you could use this.”

She pulled something out from under her skirts, and handed it to you. It was a small blade in a sheath.

“I strap it to my thigh. You can walk the streets armed, and no one will notice. Just slip it in your garter.”

You took the blade and tucked it in.

Patting your skirts down, you stood up straight. 

“Alright. I believe I’m ready. Thank you, girls.”

“And thank you for standing up to Jack. You are a hero.”

Nelly commented.

“Not yet, I’m not.”

With everything in place, you left with Jacob.

“You look gorgeous.”

“I look like a trollop.”

“That was the plan. Let’s just hope Jack takes the bait.”

When you two reached Whitechapel, you stopped Jacob.

“You can’t go any further. Take to the rooftops.”

The Assassin wrapped you in a tight hug.

“Be careful.”

He muttered into your hair.

“I’ll be fine. After all, I’ll have you watching out for me.”

You broke from the hug, and Jacob shot off his grappling hook.

Now alone, you walked the dim streets of London’s west end.

“Why is no one out here?”

You asked yourself.

Wrapping your shawl more securely around yourself, you observed your surroundings.

It was cold outside. After all, it was August. With every breath you exhaled, a white puff escaped your lips. The fog which settled on the ground added to the eerie atmosphere of Whitechapel.

“Where’s a fire when you need one?”

“I could warm you up, if you’ll let me.”

You turned to face the voice.

“It depends. To whom am I speaking?”

A tall, slender figure emerged from the shadows of an alleyway.

“People call me, Jack.”

Dressed in a trench coat and a woolen bag over his head, Jack presented a grim demeanor, without even showing his face.

“I don’t offer my services for free, however. You understand this.”

“Name your figure.”

“Fifty quid.”

“Ain’t that a bit pricey for a whore?”

“I am more experienced than most girls. So what’ll it be, mister? Will you fork over the coin? Or shall I start walkin’?”

Jack growled as he dug in his pockets for the cash. 

Gathering the correct amount, he handed over the money.

As you accepted the coin, you looked up to the rooftops to see Jacob hiding behind a chimney stack.

As you were staring off, Jack grabbed you by the arm and dragged you off into the secluded alleyway.

This was bad. Very bad. If you were in the alley, Jacob wouldn’t be able to see what was going on between you two.

“W-wait!”

“I already paid for you. You’re mine!”

“Can’t we do this on the street?”

“I prefer to do my business in private.”

Jack then slammed you against the brick wall.

The force of the action caused your hidden dagger to fall out of your garter, and onto the street below. The clatter caught Jack’s attention. At that moment, you two made eye contact.

He let an unsettling laugh.

“They’ve got harlots carrying around weapons now? Well, not to worry. Mine’s much bigger.”

Jack then slipped his right hand into his coat and pulled out a massive kitchen knife. He then tilted it so that the moon light reflected, and beams of light bounced off, shining against the walls of the alleyway.

You pressed your back against the brick, hoping to distance yourself from the blade.

“You shouldn’t play with knives. Someone could get hurt.”

Jack chuckled once more. His voice echoed, causing a chill to run down your spine.

“I’m going to gut you like a fish.”

Jack used the tip of the knife to trace intricate patterns on the flesh of your neck.

Your breaths were short, as you didn’t want to accidentally cut yourself on the blade.

“Why do you do this? Why do you kill?”

The lack of air you were intaking was starting to make you lightheaded. 

Jack leaned forward. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered.

“I could ask you the same thing, (Y/n).”

“I do it for the sake of London and her people. I fight for those who can’t fight for themselves. Why do you do it?”

“To teach others.”

Jack languidly trailed the knife down to your abdomen.

“Teach them what?”

You asked, out of breath, and hands trembling. You grabbed onto Jack’s hand, trying to push the knife away.

“That life is a precious gift.”

Jack then wrapped his left hand around your throat, keeping you pressed firmly against the wall so you wouldn’t move.

“And one shouldn’t waste it.”

Without warning, he shoved the knife inside you, as a scream erupted from your throat. Jack was quick to cover your mouth.

They cry in the night alerted Jacob, and he acted immediately. Jumping off the roof, he landed at the mouth of the alleyway.

You were slumped against your assailant’s hold.

“Jack!”

Said man looked toward the opening, seeing Jacob holding a revolver, which was pointing directly at him.

“We meet again, Jacob Frye!”

“Jack! Let her go!”

“That would be rather unwise. You see, the corset this little dove is wearing, is so tight, that if I were to remove the knife, she’d bleed out faster than if she hadn’t been wearing one at all. So, choose your next words wisely.”

Furious, Jacob caulked the gun.

“What is it you want, Jack?”

“All I ever wanted was you, Jacob. I want you to experience life as I did. I want you to watch as I destroy everything you’ve ever come to love. I already own your Rooks. And I have men in India ready to strip the flesh from your sweet sister’s bones. This is the grand finale. I’m going to string this whore’s corpse from London bridge, for all to see.”

Jack swung your body in front of him for protection, in case Jacob pulled the trigger.

Jacob seemed to be fighting with himself in his head.

He lowered the pistol and threw it to the side, with a pained sigh.

“If you want me, Jack, you can have me. Only, let her go.”

Jack erupted in laughter at this.

“My plan seems to have fallen on deaf ears. I don’t want you. At least, not just yet. I want you to watch as your life comes tumbling down around you.”

With that said, Jack brutally twisted the knife inside you.

A muffled scream escaped your lips, as tears were beading down like rain on your face.

“JACK! STOP!”

At this point, Jacob was more pleading, than demanding.

“You couldn’t save her now, even if you tried. She’s lost nearly three pints of blood.”

Jack removed the hand which covered your mouth, and showed it to the Assassin.

“Would you look at that?”

Blood had begun to spill from between your lips, effectively coating Jack’s palm in the crimson liquid. 

“She hasn’t much longer, now. Say ‘goodbye’, Jacob.”

All hope was lost. 

You were done for.

Just as Jacob was about to give up, a moving shadow caught his eye. Up above, on the rooftops where he previously was, loomed a dark figure. Without warning, the shadow leaped down and landed on top of Jack.

The unmistakable sound of a hidden blade was heard.

It then donned on Jacob.

Jack, had been assassinated.

With no one to support you, you fell to the ground, along with your attacker.

Jacob ran over to you, and dropped to his knees.

He picked you up by your torso, and propped your head up on his lap.

The Assassin’s gaze shifted from you, to the hooded stranger that was standing above you.

“Thank you-"

Before he could properly express his gratitude, the dark figure pushed back it’s hood and revealed itself.

“Evie!”

The eldest twin knelt by your body, much like Jacob did. She then laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Freddy sent me a telegram, explaining the recent murders. I got here as quick as I could.”

With his unspoken questions answered, Jacob then fell into a panicked state. He looked up to his sister.

“Will she live?!”

Evie then moved her hand from her brother’s shoulder, to your forehead.

“She’s gone cold, Jacob. And she’s incredibly pale.”

Not even the rouge on your cheeks could bring any color back to your face.

“I’m afraid there isn’t much we can do for her at this point.”

Evie explained, in a somber tone.

As Evie removed her hand, Jacob pressed his forehead to yours.

“Let it not be. Let it not be! Please, I know I’ve asked for a lot in the past, but this is the only thing I truly care about. Please, let her live!”

“Jacob, we’ve done all we could do. I’m sorry.”

“No, she’s still breathing! We still have time! We can still save her, I know it!”

He tried to reposition you in his arms, moving to pick you up, but was stopped by Evie.

“No, Jacob! If you move her, she’ll only lose more blood!”

His sister tugged him back to the ground.

Jacob, now with tears in his eyes, moved so that his lips touched your ear.

“I’m sorry. It should have been me.”

He placed his hand over your heart. And, for the last time, felt what had belonged to him, beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! It's summer in Florida! And you know what that means! EXCESS STORMS AND RAIN FOR 5 WEEKS STRAIGHT! yayyy... Since I'm being placed under house arrest by Mother Nature, why don't you all start sending me some prompt ideas for Jacob x Reader one shots! I don't do smut, however, but I'll do just about anything else. I won't set a time limit for myself to complete any one submission, because knowing me, I'll rush it and fuck it up. Also, I can't guarantee that I'll accept all submissions. As a writer, I have the right to decline any prompt. But, you guys seem pretty chill, so I don't see myself refusing many ideas. SO, if you have any ideas you'd like to share, then leave them down in the comments! :D


	7. Britain's Got No Talent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob helps you relax by singing a song. Takes place in a modern AU.

Jacob was laying on the bed, reading an upside-down book, when you came home.

Your tired body gave way as it fell onto the mattress before you.

Landing face first, you rolled over and laid your head on Jacob’s lap.

He lifted the book and looked down at you.

“Long day?”

“Longer than Mister Fantastic’s dick.”

Setting his book off to the side, Jacob ran his hands through your hair, causing you to sigh gently.

“Is there anything I can do to help you relax?”

You hummed in thought.

“Sing me a song.”

“Alright. What song?”

You shrugged your shoulders. 

“I don't know. Something soothing.”

“I’ll try.”

Jacob cleared his throat.

“ALL YOU LADIES POP YO PUSSY LIKE THIS. SHAKE YO BODY DON’T STOP DON’T MISS.”

You reached up and lazily slapped his face, temporarily stunning him.

“No. Not that one.”

“Couldn’t even let me get to the chorus.”

Jacob muttered under his breath. Inhaling, he tried again.

“Hump me! Fuck me! Daddy better make me choke! Hump me! Fuck me! My tunnel loves a deep throat! Lick, lick, lick, lick! I wanna eat yo dick-!”

Sitting up, you look Jacob dead in the eyes.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Were you dropped on your head as a child? Do you not understand the meaning of the word, ‘soothing’? Did you think that songs about oral sex would help me relax?”

“I was thinking it’d get you in the mood…”

You followed Jacob’s eyes as they flashed towards his junk.

You scoffed and slipped off the mattress. But not before you grabbed the pillow from under the Brit’s head, and threw it square at his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have too much time on my hands... 
> 
>  
> 
> Songs sung in order:
> 
> My Neck, My Back (Lick It) - Khia
> 
> Deepthroat - CupcakKe
> 
> If you have an idea for a Jacob x Reader one shot, then why not leave it down in the comments? I'm always looking for some new writing material.


End file.
